


The Sweetest Treat

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine being really self-conscious about your weight and Gabriel telling you that he 'loves those beautiful curves of your's'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Treat

The kitchen was in shambles.

With the approach of the holidays and the boys out of the bunker, you'd woken up this morning determined to do some baking. You really didn't have much else you could give Sam and Dean. Hunters really didn't do day jobs and you hadn't been hustling pool recently.

So, you'd dressed in your usual attire; a baggy t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. The too-large clothes hung off your frame and hid your more than generous curves. For a hunter, you'd always been big. Your thighs were wide and your belly was round. Your chest always seemed to be in the way and your cheeks were plump and pink. No matter what you did; dieting, exercising like a maniac, more unhealthy routes...

Your body refused to become a slim, toned-down version of itself. It was incredibly frustrating. And embarrassing.

Whenever the boys dragged you out on post-hunt celebrations, you returned feeling even worse than before you'd left. Always you received countless disgusted, piteous looks. From bartenders when you drank yourself into oblivion because the only men who approached you were sloshed. From other women and a few men when you trudged behind the boys when it was time to leave. And you could forget about taking a meal in public. Of course, you were still judged when the boys ate while you picked at a leafy salad.

You sighed heavily, tucking a few stray strands of hair away from your face.

Countless pots, pans, bowls, and utensils were scattered across the counter-tops. Flour dusted a few places in fine white clumps. Sugar grains stuck to your fingers. The oven had warmed the kitchen to a fair degree. You could feel how warm your cheeks had gotten. Surely your face was tomato red. You began the task of cleaning up.

Periodically, the timer would sound and you'd swap out a sheet of cookies, a pan of brownies, or a pie. You were down to the last few dishes. You grabbed the next, a bowl in which you'd mixed the brownies. A few dollops of the thick, brown mix clung to the silvery sides. Your mouth watered as your stomach let out a despondent noise. It'd been so, so long since you'd last indulged.

No! You needed to behave!

There was no way you were going to slim down if you started snacking. But the brownie batter seemed to call your name.

With a quick move, you swiped up the chocolaty mixture and sealed your lips around your fingertip. Flavor exploded on your tongue, rich and decadent. You couldn't help but close your eyes as a tiny moan wormed out from between your lips.

"I saw that." You squeaked, dropping the bowl into the soapy water of the sink as your hand flew to your waist for the knife you kept there. You turned sharply, heart fairly beating out of your chest.

Gabriel the archangel was leaned against the kitchen stove, a chocolate-chip cookie in one hand. You let out the breath you'd been holding as an angry blush flooded your cheeks.

"Gabriel, one of these days, I'm going to be carrying a gun and you'll end up with a bullet in your chest."

The angel gave you a crooked grin as he popped the last bite of the cookie into his mouth. "You'd kiss it better, though, wouldn't you?"

Your anger immediately became flustered embarrassment. "I, um. No!"

Gabriel raised one brow. "So, what're you making all this for?"

You returned to washing. The soapy water rose up to your elbows. The sponge in your hand was heavy with detergent.

"It's my Christmas gift for the boys." You said quietly.

Gabriel always made you nervous. His very presence made you stutter and turn into a vapid school girl. Your insides did funny things at the simplest look from him. It was all ridiculous and annoying and left you angry with yourself. Of course you'd be interested in one of Heaven's most high and mighty. And one of the most charming, sweet, handsome....

You rinsed the bowl off and started on the next utensil.

"And you were doing what with the brownie batter? Quality control?" Gabriel's voice came from right behind you. "You seemed pretty pleased with the product."

You stiffened slightly, hands moving faster beneath the water. "Shut up." You muttered.

"You know, I've heard it said that no one should ever trust a skinny cook." His words fell like anvil blows.

Fat. You were fat. That's why you were a good cook. 'Cause you made sure everything you ate was the best. _Fat, fat, fat_...The words ran rampant through your head as your eyes blurred with tears.

With a hard yank, you pulled the stopper from the drain and toweled your hands roughly.

"Ha ha. Make fun of the fat girl in the kitchen. Great joke, Gabriel." You kept your head ducked down so he wouldn't see how close you were to tears. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish cleaning up this mess."

Gabriel froze in the corner of your eye.

You turned quickly, shoving a baking sheet back into its proper place. A tear ran over. You scrubbed the back of your hand over it roughly.

"Y/N, I never meant-"

"It's fine, I get it. Really. Just, please leave me alone, okay?" Your voice cracked a little and you glared at yourself.

How pathetic you were.

Something warm touched your shoulder and turned you around. You were staring down at Gabriel's shoes. The streaks from your tears on your face were still wet and cool.

"Y/N, I never said you were fat. You're not-"

Your jaw clenched as angry tears ran over. "Oh, please. 'Skinny cooks' jokes? I get that shit all the time. I know what I am. An anomaly, a chunk hunter. Yeah, I've heard it all. So make your joke, Gabriel. Whatever. I don't care."

The angel's head jerked back at your words. "How could you-? You don't- You think you're unattractive?"

"Please. I'm no seven on the scale of good looks or size."

There was a long minute of quiet in which you tried to stop the flow of tears that refused to cease trickling from your eyes. Here you were, red-faced and snot-nosed in front of one of the most perfect people to ever grace the earth. You wished the floor beneath your feet would open up and swallow you whole.

Gabriel made a low, harsh noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Suddenly, his hands were on you. One eased beneath your chin and lifted your face, the other landed on your waist. You had no choice but to meet the archangel's gaze.

You gasped aloud at what you saw there. His eyes fairly blazed, the golden color gleaming hot and wild. If you didn't know better, you would've said that what you saw in that look was hunger. Raw, unadulterated _hunger_.

His thumb smoothed over your lower lip. The tiny action had your heart stuttering and your lashes fluttering.

"Y/N, you're the most beautiful human I've ever encountered. Regardless of your weight. You're stunning. You, your body...Drives me insane. I love these beautiful curves of your's." His voice was low and husky.

You swallowed thickly. "Gabriel-"

"Do you have any clue of what you do to me, Y/N?"

"W-what?" You stuttered.

Your back met the counter as he pressed you back. He kept coming, though, until his body was flush against your's. Then, he rolled his hips against your own. He was clearly, undeniably aroused.

You gasped loudly. " _Gabriel_!"

The archangel leaned in close. Hot breath fanned over your skin. The fingers on your jaw tightened.

"That's what you do to me, Y/N. _You_. No one else."


End file.
